


Rekindled

by Crowsister



Series: bloodstained ash [2]
Category: Guild Wars 2 (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Path of Fire spoilers, The Departing, Two Commanders, canon tweaking, female Charr Commander
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-06-17 06:47:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15455658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crowsister/pseuds/Crowsister
Summary: My ears picked up as a deep voice yelled, “Oi! You’re not going to ignore the maverick, are you?”I spun, looking towards the source. A charr wearing heavy armor with a sword at his waist stood about five feet in front of me, a smirk growing on his lips. His tail drifted through the air back and forth behind him, its large bushy end ruffling in a wind that only seemed to affect him. He had a crown of horns, four of them, all curving upwards in deadly, dagger-like points. Color was bleeding out from him, bright fiery colors inking him and slowly the landscape around him.“Never could ignore me,” he replied, stepping forward. “You were always just too shy. You sparred with Reeva all the time and not me because you were too shy. Too quiet with how you felt about me.”“I...I’m sorry, do I know you?” I asked, stepping back. “I’m...I’m supposed to be finding a weapon to fight with.”





	Rekindled

I woke up, slowly. My head was pounding, even feeling my eyes _pound_ in time to both my heartbeat and the words being spoken around me.

“My life is over,” a voice said. “How does freeing you help me?”

I rose slowly, feeling heavy. Do I always feel so heavy in my body? I looked down, seeing orange and brown armor, layered leathers and clothe. Something in my mind noted that it fit well, well-made for my body type. Something about my body type seemed hard to make armor for.

I looked, seeing a woman—a ghost of a woman standing on the green ground around them. Human, my mind supplied. She had clothes similar to what armor I wore—were they related? Did this human woman know me? Something about seeing a ghost rose an aggressive streak in my mind, as if anticipating a fight.

The human woman was addressing a man in a cage, who was practically snarling at the mouth. No, I realized, he was _smiling_. Humans have weird ways of smiling that looked like snarling. “I can give you a new life—endless, full of all the purpose and opportunity that eluded you the first time. A chance to do it right.”

“I don't want to be one of your Awakened. That's why I fled your rule in the first place.” The woman was shaking her head, holding herself strong. It inspired me to step forward, quietly watching the two. It was instinct, to be quiet.

“It doesn't matter. Deserter, defector, or exile—help me now and all will be forgiven,” the man cooed, making me want to pull my lips back and snarl. I could feel my ears twitch. Was it normal for me to have ears like this? Maybe the woman could help.

The woman continued to shake her head through his words, crossing her arms. “No...I'm where I ought to be. I accept whatever the afterlife has in store for me. You should, too.” This pinged my sensibilities as sensible. All I have right now is instinct and gut feelings. Maybe echoes of who I am?

My attention was stolen from the woman and my thoughts as the man snarls, “Never. For me, there is no _after_ life. I exist forever. I rule, I dominate... and I've only just begun.” His attention finally finds me, his eyes landing on mine. “You two, there! Come here. Over here! We can help each other. What is your name?”

The woman shifted on her feet, watching me sharply. I hold myself together, walking forward. “I don’t know,” I answered, looking down at my hands. “I don’t belong here.”

“Me neither,” a voice to my right said. I look down and see a blue woman with orange glowing hair. She stood next to me, looking somewhat hopeful at the man.

“We have that in common! Free me and I shall help you,” the man replied. “Here, a gift given freely from King Palawa Joko: you’re here because you died. It happens. You are in the Domain of the Lost. I don’t belong here and I trust you when you say you don’t belong here either. We can escape, together. You and your rightful king, Palawa Joko!”

“I...I don’t know that name,” I replied. “I don’t know you and I don’t know if I can trust you.”

“Liar! All who take breath know me!” He roared, gripping the bars of his cage. He begins to rant, spiraling into his credentials. They all _seem_ self-given, I note. They seem...flat. Unearned. But I had nothing to support that belief, so I stayed quiet. The human woman had staying quiet too, so this might’ve been the right choice.

I stayed quiet until he stopped. I asked, “Why are you here?”

Joko began his rant anew, but I paid attention to the nouns. Balthazar, god, spirits, army. Broken promise, trickery. So he was an idiot on top of being overtly performative of his power. I watched the woman out of the corner of my eye as she cut through his rant, argued that he wasn’t a god. They went back and forth shortly on his status of godhood until the human woman turned to me and granted me her whole attention.

“Come, lost charr,” she said, holding a hand out to me. “You must take the first steps, and I’ve heard enough of Joko’s blasphemies.”

Something clicked in my mind, hearing that title. I _was_ charr. I was part of a powerful people, feared across Tyria for our prowess. Something felt warm in my chest and I mimicked a human smile across my muzzle. “You know the way, human?”

“I know a better way than Joko,” she answered, “if you truly do not belong, like you say, then the Judge will know where you do belong.”

I nodded, slowly approaching her hand. I enveloped her hand in my large one, feeling the pad of my palm shielding her hand and her warmth seeping into my hand. I was careful with my claws, something in me used to holding the hand of someone smaller and more fragile than me.

I looked back over my shoulder at the blue woman, who was still quietly listening to the man rant with big eyes. “Little one,” I called.

She looked at me, tilting her head. The blue woman looked back at the man and shrugged, muttering something. He began to yell as she skipped away, taking my other hand.

“We’ll just be lost together,” she replied. I snorted, smiling softly.

The human woman lead me through the green landscape, the fog parting around us like she was the sun burning it away. We both kept silent, which let me hear the sounds around me. Curious cries of animals and people came out from all around us in the fog, words of “who, why, what, where, how” all echoing about in various pitches and voices.

The human woman’s voice cut through my thoughts like a trained blade. “The Domain of the Lost is dangerous. Stay close to me, please.”

Looking back down to her, I asked, “Who is the Judge?”

“He is a loyal servant of Grenth, charged with sending all the spirits who come through here to their appointed place,” she answered, looking ahead and obviously seeing something that I could not.

“Grenth...” I racked my mind, getting frustrated with the scraps of information that I had. “He is a human god. I remember that much. I don’t know who I am, but...I know I’m not supposed to be here.”

“That’s why you must see him,” the human woman answered. “He’ll know.”

A new voice cut through the fog, literally. “Come, spirit,” a large figure said as the fog fell to pieces around them. He wore green robes with skulls along them. “Be not afraid.”

“I am charr,” I answered, holding onto the one piece of identity I had. “We do not scare easy.” I felt the blue woman’s hand tremble in mine and I gave it a gentle squeeze.

For a moment, I thought I could hear him chuckle. Maybe it was from elsewhere, but the timing was too _canny_. “No. No you do not.”

“I’ve been told you can tell me who I am,” I replied, “and why I’m here.”

The two green glowing dots in the mask of the skull regarded me as he walked around me. He was taller than a human—couldn’t have been human, beyond sharing their basic shape. I stood my ground, swiftly removing my tail from his path as he walked.

He stopped, in front of me. “Spirits typically find their own way, after they die,” the Judge replied. “But those whose deaths are too traumatic often forget who they were or how they perished. They come here.”

“You, your friend, and I,” the woman answered, “are three such spirits.”

“I am not a spirit,” I replied. “I am charr.”

“Regardless, you are here. You will reach your rightful place in time. First, you must recover your name to know who you were and how you lived. Then you must learn your purpose, to understand the choices you made and why you lived as you did. Once you know your name and your purpose, only then can I determine your final destination.”

I frowned. My ears twitched, folding back against my head as I shifted on my feet. “But how do I do that?”

“Nenah has traveled the path you now face. She can assist you.” The Judge motioned at the human woman. “For though they may have belonged to you in life, once your name and purpose enter this domain, they are yours no longer.” His stare burned into my eyes. “And you will have to _fight_ to reclaim your name.” He turned from me, “Now, arm yourself.”

I turned to the woman as the Judge vanished in a poof of black smoke. “Your name is Nenah?” At her nod, I continued, “So you discovered your name? How do I reclaim mine?”

“I learned my name from the spirit of my old mentor. But only after besting him at a challenge of riddles. I discovered my purpose hidden in an old diary I had written as a child. I was a teacher,” Nenah answered.

I raised an eyebrow. “Is it that simple?”

Nenah hummed, tilting her head. “It's different for everyone. The judge said you must fight to recover your name, so you clearly weren't a teacher.” She put a hand on her chin, looking over my armor. “A soldier, perhaps?”

“I...” I sighed, looking at my hands. “I don't _know_. I followed you to the Judge because of that.”

I could see Nenah nod out of the corner of my eye. She touched my shoulder gently, “Well, if you are to fight, you must first arm yourself.”

“With what?” I asked, laughing while my tail twitched. “I don’t even know my own _name_ , but I should know what weapons I was proficient with?”

Nenah replied, “Spirits must abandon their possessions before they may move on. Look around the area and perhaps you will find something useful.”

I look around, seeing nothing new. I turned back to Nenah and the landscape had changed behind me. It was a large, open plain, with trees dotting along in odd spaces throughout. The colors were washed out, everything a shock of grey to the green of the afterlife before.

My ears picked up as a deep voice yelled, “Oi! You’re not going to ignore the maverick, are you?”

I spun, looking towards the source. A charr wearing heavy armor with a sword at his waist stood about five feet in front of me, a smirk growing on his lips. His tail drifted through the air back and forth behind him, its large bushy end ruffling in a wind that only seemed to affect him. He had a crown of horns, four of them, all curving upwards in deadly, dagger-like points. Color was bleeding out from him, bright fiery colors inking him and slowly the landscape around him.

“Never could ignore me,” he replied, stepping forward. “You were always just too shy. You sparred with Reeva all the time and not me because you were too shy. Too quiet with how you felt about me.”

“I...I’m sorry, do I know you?” I asked, stepping back. “I’m...I’m supposed to be finding a weapon to fight with.”

His ears drooped. “Nobody ever hears about Maverick. It wounds a guy’s ego, y’know?”

“I’m...I’m sorry?” I tilted my head. “How...how did I know you?”

“We were in the same warband. I taught you how to use a sword, when we were cubs. I died before I got to tell you how I felt about you.” Maverick grinned, taking another step towards me. “But this is great! I can save you, one last time.” He took the sword out of his scabbard. “Go on. Even if you don’t remember me, I get to help the babe with fire in her eyes.”

I looked at him, watching his body language. He seemed legitimately helpful, his very posture _screaming_ with how he wanted to help me under his brave, nonchalant facade. I stepped forward and he offered me his sword, hope in his gaze.

“I don’t remember you,” I replied, touching the hilt of the sword and my hand brushing his. Echoes of foreign emotions, fragments, echoed in my ribs: grief, anger, shock, resignation, timidness, and _attraction_ . Whoever I had been, I think I had been attracted to him, like he said. Maybe he wasn’t all hot air. “But I do know you meant _something_ to me. I can’t take your weapon,” I said, gently pushing the sword back to him. “This place is dangerous. Come with me, bring your sword, and we can keep each other safe.”

Maverick’s grin widened. “That’s...that’s how you recruited me to the warband. When we were cubs.” He sheathed his sword, wrapping his arms around me. “Even when you’ve been killed so hard that you don’t even remember your name, you know how to win a guy over. Let’s get the band back together. Well-” he laughed, quietly, bittersweet “-everybody who was waiting for you and Reeva. So, me and Clawspurr. Dinky and Euryale moved on after Howl...” Maverick paused, pressing his forehead to mine, with our horns softly clinking against each other. “Howl...Howl lost himself. He couldn’t get his name back.” His grip around me tightened, like he was afraid to let go. “I won’t let that happen to you.”

“Thank you, Maverick.” I slowly hugged him back, gently pressing my head back against his. “When...I’m back together, we’ll talk.” I let him go, slipping out of his grasp. “Now, let’s find Clawspurr and-”

“You truly don’t remember,” a smooth voice hummed behind me, “because if you did, you’d know that I am always your shadow, if I can reach you.”

I looked over my shoulder, seeing a charr in leather armor. He had daggers in his hands and was crouched low to the ground, looking up at me with a careful expression. Where bright, brilliant orange seemed to leak off of Maverick into the grey landscape, this charr leaked a gentle, subtle green. His horns swept back across his head, curving up at the tips.

“That’s...good to know,” I said. “A little creepy, but good to know.” I tilted my head. “You’re...you’re Clawspurr, right?”

“Do you ask because you remember or because you suspect?” He asked, slowly standing. “Careful—a stab in the dark might end up going in your own gut. Especially here.”

“Because I suspect,” I answered. “Maverick isn’t running to defend me, so you have to be friendly to him or whoever I am. Or both. Maverick’s talked and acted like I mean something, so I can figure that he’d defend me if something suddenly jumped at me.”

The mysterious charr chuckled, stepping closer. “Ash Legion training, branded into you so deep that you remember it in your soul when you even forget your name. I shouldn’t be surprised.” He offered a hand to me, smiling. “It has been too long since I’ve gotten to poke your academic study of Ash techniques and reasoning. I’m glad you haven’t lost it. I am Clawspurr—we taught each other how to take to the shadow and how to sink our daggers, claws, and teeth just the right way into things.” Clawspurr chuckled. “We ended up not sparring too often—too many knives can make a mess of things.”

I took his hand and he pulled me close, his forehead gently smashing against mine in a sign of clear affection. I chuckled under my breath, adjusting my head to rub my cheek against his. I pulled back into my own space. “Alright. Swords, daggers...that tells me what weapons I knew,” I replied. “Good. Let’s find me a weapon.”

“Try this.” Clawspurr held out a strange weapon. It was small, handheld, not a blade of any kind. Something about it was familiar in a way that made my tail twitch.

I gently took it, holding it in a way that made Clawspurr and Maverick laugh. “What...what is it?” I asked, turning it over gently in my hands. It had a hole that lead down its short barrel, smelling _sharp_.

“You died so hard you forgot everything that ever really mattered to you,” Maverick replied, sounding bitterly amused. “That’s a pistol. You loved them. It’s a kind of gun.” He reached over, showing me how to hold it and use it. “See? You remember, deep down. Your first love was a pistol.”

“I can believe it,” I replied, spinning the pistol around my finger with a move that on anyone else, would’ve seemed practiced. But I didn’t remember learning how to do that, learning how this thing-this pistol worked. But I knew it. I knew it the same way I knew how to read body language and read expressions: it was instinct. “Alright, boys,” I replied, holding the pistol in my hand. “Let’s get my name back. Warband style.”

“Sun warband, back at it again!” Maverick laughed.

I turned, seeing the familiar landscape of the Realm of the Lost. At my left was Maverick’s warmth and in my shadow was Clawspurr’s sharp eyes. In front of me was a smiling Nenah and the blue woman. The blue woman had a strange bear-like entity with her, its energy a strange pink.

“I see you’ve found your weapons,” she replied.

“I’ve found my warband,” I answered, “and I think nothing could stop me and my warband when we got going.”

“Excellent,” Nenah replied.

“On your right,” Clawspurr whispered.

I looked and followed his line of sight. “That spirit...looks just like me.”

“There’s me over there!” the blue woman yelped.

“We should follow,” Nenah replied. “I will guide you, sylvari. Your warband has your back, charr?”

“Always,” Clawspurr and Maverick answered at the same time.

Nenah nodded, taking the hand of the blue woman and running with the beast. They chased her spirit into cave mouth. I looked back at my warband, noting that Clawspurr was already gone.

I muttered, “He’s tracking.”

“Not a question, huh?” Maverick asked. “You remembering?”

“Instinct, I think,” I answered. “Someone always leads. If I wasn’t playing leader, I would’ve. I didn’t, so he stepped up.” I looked at Maverick. “Is that Ash Legion training?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” Maverick answered. “I never paid much attention to it. The Maverick followed his own rules, y’know? Only learned when there was nothing else to do.”

I nodded. A flash of metal got my attention away from Maverick, spotting Clawspurr slinking along the entrance of another cave and using his dagger to reflect light. I gave Clawspurr a nod. “Let’s move out.”

* * *

I exhaled deeply. The spirit shifted from my form, my brown ashen fur, shedding into the form of a shaking asura.

“So?” Maverick asked, “Do you remember?”

I closed my eyes. Wisps of things came to mind: colors, shapes, a voice. Male, non-charr: _“You’re stronger than-”_

I grunted, opening my eyes. “Not everything. Barely anything at all.”


End file.
